


it takes some time just to learn someone

by seeingrightly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: He’s not nervous, exactly, not panicking, because there’s only so far Draco could have gone, and he’s surrounded by people who feel fairly benignly about him at this point, except for maybe Ginny, who’s never felt benignly about anyone in her life and enjoys being contrary. It’s just that the backyard is where the kids are, and Draco hasn’t interacted with them much at all. Draco doesn’t give off the sense of ever having interacted with a child, or having been one. He never did even when he was one, Harry remembers.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	it takes some time just to learn someone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theverytiredgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theverytiredgirl/gifts), [punkpadfoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpadfoot/gifts).



> this happened because i demanded that cait & melissa come up with a drarry idea for me. it's not EXACTLY what y'all asked for but i hope you enjoy
> 
> thank u to aj for looking this over :*
> 
> title from "i know" by aly & aj

Harry Floos into the Weasley kitchen first, Draco following him a few moments later. It’s only Molly in the kitchen at the moment; it sounds like the kids, the masses of them, are all outside, and Ron’s loud laugh is coming from the living room alongside a bunch of other voices. Molly doesn’t step away from her cutting board, watching several knives slice themselves through vegetables at once, but she waves them over with one hand.

“Come here,” she says, tilting her cheek up so Harry can kiss it. “Lovely to see you, dear.”

“You too, Molly,” Harry says, putting his hand on her arm for a moment before he steps away.

When Draco doesn’t step into his place, Harry reaches out to gently propel him forward. Draco looks uncertain, but Molly’s cheek is still upturned, so he kisses it very carefully, like she’s a cat that might hiss or bite him.

“Hello, Molly,” he says, formal, and she squeezes his wrist before letting him go.

Draco hasn’t been coming along with Harry to Weasley Sunday dinners for very long, but he’s been coming consistently, and he hasn’t settled in yet. He seemed more comfortable when he was coming along as a friend of Harry and Hermione and several of the Weasleys, back when it didn’t matter as much if he was received well. He’s been received well so far, but he still holds himself stiffly.

“Oh,” Ron says, pausing with one foot in the air as he steps into the kitchen, visibly changing mental tracks from whatever he’d been about to do. “Harry, come tell Bill how wrong he is about the Cannons’ chances this year.”

Ron disappears without waiting for an answer. Harry shakes his head and turns to Draco, who nods.

“Go on,” he says, amusement under the surface, as he moves to follow Harry.

The living room is crowded with redheads and their partners. Bill is a few steps into the room, and Draco hangs back a little bit, hovering near the doorway, as Harry approaches him. Draco does that most of the time, here and elsewhere, now that he doesn’t showboat the way he did as a kid, now that he’s not sure how people feel about him and his family’s past. It takes some time for him to work his way into a conversation, to decide who he wants to test the waters with.

It can be off-putting, honestly, and doesn’t do him many favors with the people who are disinclined to like him. Harry has told him as much more than once; Ginny in particular hates it. Draco doesn’t care. He’d rather the conversation itself go well, and after all, he’d said, if those people want to hate him already, it doesn’t make much of a difference.

He’s right, so Harry lets him hang back and tries to keep an eye on him.

Only sometimes Harry gets caught up in talking to the Weasleys. Harry’s very comfortable here, not as worried for Draco here, and Ron can be infuriating when it comes to Quidditch, can’t he, so Harry forgets to watch Draco, to see if he’s worked his way into the room yet or who he’s chosen. When he finally does remember, he can’t find Draco in the room at all, and that’s concerning. He’s spun to scan the whole room twice before Lee, across the room, catches his eye and points back toward the kitchen. Harry nods in thanks, but Draco’s not there either when he enters the room.

“Molly,” Harry says, and one of her knives swivels to point over her shoulder in the direction of the backyard.

He’s not nervous, exactly, not panicking, because there’s only so far Draco could have gone, and he’s surrounded by people who feel fairly benignly about him at this point, except for maybe Ginny, who’s never felt benignly about anyone in her life and enjoys being contrary. It’s just that the backyard is where the kids are, and Draco hasn’t interacted with them much at all. Draco doesn’t give off the sense of ever having interacted with a child, or having been one. He never did even when he was one, Harry remembers.

But none of that is true, of course, and Harry knows that, but the time they’ve spent with Teddy together hasn’t been immensely helpful, since Teddy is 12 and deeply unimpressed with adults, and since Draco is Draco and deeply unimpressed with nearly everything.

So Harry needs a long few moments of visual processing after he steps out the back door and sees Draco holding one of the smaller Weasley girls upside down by her ankles, her hands planted in the grass and blood rushing to her cheeks.

“It takes a lot of arm and core strength to do this kind of handstand without help,” Draco says. “Having your head on the ground is much easier.”

“What’s core strength?” asks Rose, her arms crossed as she studies her cousin’s wobbling arms.

“Your torso, mostly,” Draco says. “Your stomach -”

“I know what a torso is,” Rose says, not impolitely.

For a moment, Harry is struck by how similar they are, no nonsense, a bit rude but usually not on purpose, and sometimes very much on purpose. They also both prefer to reveal things on their own time and clam up if pressed, so Harry won’t be outright asking why Draco knows how to do handstands and headstands. Getting to witness it is a gift, and eventually getting some kind of explanation will be a second, separate one.

“Do you want to get down now?” Draco asks, and after he receives a muffled yes, he helps the little girl right herself, all efficient movements, like he spends his days doing gymnastics with kids.

“Can you teach me how to cartwheel now?” Rose asks.

Draco notices Harry, then, doing a double take, something passing over his face that Harry doesn’t have time to identify. Harry waits. Draco will say so if he wants Harry to leave; he doesn’t.

“Of course,” Draco says. “Do you want me to help you through the movements first?”

“I want you to show me first,” Rose says.

“That’s smart,” Draco says, the slightest bit of resentment creeping into his tone, but he also looks impressed.

He looks down at his clothing for a long moment. He’s in jeans and a sweater and a pair of shoes Harry doesn’t remember the right name for, all very nice and his version of casual. Draco doesn’t shrug, but Harry can see the moment where he would. Then he steps a few feet away from the kids and does a very neat cartwheel, his long legs arcing gracefully above him, landing more lightly on his feet than someone his age probably should without being a gymnast or something. There is a moment where Harry wonders if Draco is secretly a gymnast.

“Show me again?” Rose asks, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Draco does, even moving back to the same starting place, precise in his recreation so Rose can study him carefully. When he rights himself, he turns, catches sight of her expression for just a moment, and opts to do a third cartwheel before she can ask. Harry wonders how he isn’t dizzy.

He helps Rose figure out how to move her body to cartwheel, pointing and explaining and only touching after asking. It takes time for her to figure it out, and both Rose and Draco are patient throughout the process, even when the other kids get restless and move onto other games. Harry gets dragged into a game of catch with an old beat-up Quaffle, but he keeps an eye on the two of them across the yard, because he wants to, not because he thinks he needs to.

When Rose finally manages a full, correct cartwheel with no assistance, Draco applauds, a wide smile crossing his face, the kind not many people receive. Harry whoops and starts to applaud too, and the Quaffle hits him in the shoulder. Draco looks up in time to see it, and his smile turns warmer.

“I need to show Mum and Dad,” Rose says, running toward the house.

“Perhaps don’t do it inside,” Draco says, and while the urgency in his tone isn’t very noticeable, Harry absolutely catches it.

“I’m not going to do it inside!” Rose yells back right before entering the kitchen, barely slowing down.

Harry’s not sure how much Rose context Rose is going to give her parents, or what Ron in particular might say. He moves over to Draco’s side, sliding his hands deep into his own pockets, and Draco cuts a look at him.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Nothing,” Draco lies, but he seems quietly pleased.

Ron, Hermione, and Molly follow Rose into the yard, with a few more Weasleys appearing in the doorway behind them.

“I need to practice more,” Rose says in warning to the group, “but I think I’ve got the hang of it.”

Her cartwheel is wobbly, but she lands well and throws her arms up in celebration. The audience cheers and applauds and asks her to do it again, and she beams in Draco’s direction before complying. Molly and Hermione exchange a blatant look that Harry doesn’t know the meaning of, and Ron grins widely in Harry and Draco’s direction but doesn’t say anything.

It’s not that Harry needs to give them more credit, exactly. He knows what they’re like and how they’ve been treating Draco. It’s just that he hasn’t explained thoroughly to them what he’s learned about Draco, what Draco needs and why, and it’s important that Harry hasn’t done that, but it makes him nervous. He has this knowledge, and to not use it to make Draco as comfortable as possible feels wrong, too.

But they’re good people, and smart, and they want Draco to be comfortable, too. There are missteps, but Harry never has to protect Draco as much as he thinks he does, not with them.

Harry doesn’t realize how much he’s relaxed until Draco puts a hand on his back and rubs it in a small circle, though he’s focusing on Rose with a subtly proud expression.

“Thank you,” Draco says, very quiet, not looking away from Rose.

“What for?” Harry asks, trying not to tense up again, and Draco steps a little closer.

Draco sighs, but it’s amused, and he turns to look at Harry instead from up close.

“I like that you look out for me even when you don’t need to,” he says, his tone careful. “You don’t need to try to pretend you aren’t doing it.”

“Oh,” Harry says, and for a moment he’s intensely embarrassed.

He hadn’t realized he was obvious. He knows he does it pretty much all the time, more than he needs to, but he didn’t know that Draco felt it enough to have an opinion about it. But Draco’s just said he likes it, so aside from the shock of it, he knows he doesn’t need to feel bad.

Still, the shock of it is a lot.

“Oh,” Harry says again, because he has to say something. “Well. Alright.”

“Alright,” Draco repeats, not laughing exactly but close to it.

And that’s the end of it. He turns back to watch Rose again, still close, still rubbing Harry’s back, giving him the space to process. He understands Harry too; he protects him too, calms him, gives him the space he needs and the closeness he needs. He’s not so obvious as Harry apparently is, but he’s there, steady and precise.

Harry leans a little further into Draco’s side, relaxing again. He already knows it will be alright.

“Thanks,” Harry says. “Thank you, too.”

“You’re welcome,” Draco says.

“You’re welcome, too,” Harry adds belatedly, and this time Draco does laugh, quiet but out loud and real.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter @ [coralbluenmbr5](twitter.com/coralbluenmbr5)


End file.
